The Sellsword from Solstheim
by PaazPeytProductions
Summary: Mercenary work is never dull, but a break is sometimes necessary. Teldryn Sero has been taking a break for several years, but an odd warrior with an unshakable smile puts him back on the job with a friendly drink and a fat sack of coin. Thus, the cynical Dunmer and the energetic Nord set out in a partnership built by money, sarcasm, adventure, and a lack of sense of personal space.
1. Prologue: A Proposition

Quite a long time ago, far longer than I care to remember, several ships anchored off the shore of an island. A Dunmer man steps off a dinghy onto the ashen beach, closely followed by an entourage of dark elves, curiously regarding the frontier with determination in their eyes. Half the island is as frozen as the land of the Nords to the southwest across the Sea of Ghosts, yet these Dunmer see no snow. Instead of frost, gray specks from the Red Mountain dance about them, dusting their shoulders and whitening their raven heads. The first Dunmer gestures for the others to follow him into the spans of the ashlands, while those who remain on the ships receive a signal to ready the supplies stored away on board.

The pioneers of the Raven Rock colony have just caught their first glimpses of their new home.

The leader of the expedition, Lleril, stands out from the others. Upon first glance, his fiery hair might be attributed as the difference, but the men behind him know the truth to run much deeper than that; in his veins, Redoran blue-blood flows, and his soul is tempered by hard work and diligence. By his side, his close friend, Adril, points out promising aspects of the land with great excitement. Adril occasionally casts furtive glances back towards the largest ship, where his new bride waits patiently.

These men get to work quickly and efficiently. Several scouts are sent ahead to scope out the vast plains over the steep gray cliffs. A few brave souls investigate the cave set into the high cliff-side, and joyous shouts confirm plentiful ebony deposits just inside moments later. After safe perimeters of the land are set, women and children venture from the boats to the island.

Within a few months, the rough outline of a settlement houses several families. Farming techniques are beginning to conform to the ashy composition of the soil. The ebony mine is nearly in working condition. A Dunmer named Geldis contently takes in his newly built tavern, and opens a celebratory bottle of sujamma.

He hands me the bottle and welcomes me to the warm hearth with a smile. I'm weary from the voyage to this place; a few centuries of mercenary work has caused me to become rather tired. Inside, the fire crackles merrily and I sit at a newly crafted table with a soft moan, painfully aware of the soreness in my body. In my mind, I have not moved from that seat for what seems like years.

Many, many years.

* * *

Raven Rock has changed drastically over time. Flourishing upwards and outwards, it has proved it can withstand any obstacle. The long-thought-to-be unworkable mine opened once more to the ecstasy of the miners. Those pesky ashspawn which plagued the town were put a stop to, thankfully. Even the raving mad yet _insanely_ powerful ex-servant of Hermaeus Mora could not bring down Raven Rock.

However, I know Raven Rock had plenty of help during these trials.

At first, I caught only whispers. Mere rumors of a being sweeping through town, seemingly with the intention of burrowing its nose in everyone's business. Nothing concrete; everyone's minds were a bit bungled at that time. Soon, greater stories spread from the townsfolk; this being singlehandedly wiped out the ashspawn and the warlock behind them. Eventually, the day came when the fog that clouded our heads was lifted; Miraak had fallen by the being's hands.

The people rejoiced. Free will was restored and finally the economy was picking up. Glover Mallory, a Breton smith, informed me the one responsible for the town's recovery was a Nord, quite famous in Skyrim apparently. This intrigued me greatly; the only Nords on Solstheim resided in Skaal village or in Thirsk Hall, or were part of Captain Gjalund's crew. Very few of the wild men came to Raven Rock. In fact, aside from the odd Breton and Imperial, Raven Rock was populated only by Dunmer.

Now, in my days of travel, I had been to Skyrim many times. I lived in Windhelm for awhile, in the Gray Quarter. I was never a fan of the wretched place, but I could only hope Skyrim had more to offer than that frozen cesspool. Glover told me much of the land, so I can surmise it doesn't nearly live up to Morrowind, particularly my home city of Blacklight. But I digress; from my knowledge of Skyrim, this savior the other townsfolk praised so much must be some hulking bear of a Nord, at least I thought.

When the door to the Retching Netch swung open, I realized my initial assumption was a little off.

The person who walked into the tavern was unmistakably a Nord, but "bear" did not properly describe this person. The Nord was a woman, fair-haired as one might expect. She possessed the more heavy-set shape akin to the hardy northern people, unlike the typically slender elves, and a spiral tattoo dominated her left cheek. Her armor was ebony, strong and protective, I could respect that. What honestly threw me off was her smile.

She seemed happy, content, at ease, a plethora of other synonyms. I pictured a hardened warrior who went through hell to get where he was now, not... this. It rather vexed me, I must admit.

As she proceeded into the room, watching the fire in mild interest, I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms as per my usual stance. I stared at her shrewdly out of my peripheral vision, glad for my obscuring helm. She slowly spun on her heel, taking in every aspect of the ground floor, before stopping in my direction. She blinked quickly, once, twice, and her smile spread widely. I remained seated and silent, impassively returning her stare. She took a few strides closer to my table, laying a hand on the chair across from me.

"Do you mind if I sit?"

Her voice was laden with a thick accent, typical of a Nord. I gave an indifferent nod, and she sat down with an air of excitement. She waved over Drovas Relvi and ordered a bottle of flin. I took note of how well she tipped. Impressive. She scrutinized the bottle closely, before uncorking it and taking a swig. She rolled her eyes upward as if to contemplate the flavor. "Hm. It's interesting. I like mead better, though."

I chuckled. Typical outlander behavior.

"I'd suggest matze next time, serah. It tends to agree with Nords more so than flin." I smiled slightly under my helmet after giving my advice. What an odd creature sat before me.

She hummed, as if intrigued by this fact. "Is that so? I will remember that." With a light laugh, she took another drink of flin.

I raised an eyebrow. "I assume you have reason to be sitting here, discussing alcohol with a stranger?"

She watched me over the rim of the flin bottle with a surprisingly serious expression. "I have not talked with you yet. I needed to fix that fact."

"Really."

"Heh, well, partially." She leaned over the table slightly. "I heard from Glover Mallory that you're one of the finest sellswords Morrowind has to offer."

Well, that explained it. That Glover was quite the chatty fellow, wasn't he? I feigned a miffed tone: "My dear, you heard wrong. I am _the_ finest sellsword Morrowind has to offer. I won't hold that against you, though."

"Does that mean you are up for hire, friend?" she grinned, nearly bouncing in her seat.

"Yes, I suppose it does," I replied loftily. "For a price, of course."

"Of course," she laughed briskly. "Then name your price!"

"Hm..." I took a moment to mockingly ponder the question, before dismissively shrugging. "How about, say, five hundred coins." That was standard fare for a mercenary.

I sat up straighter as she poured the contents of a small sack onto the table. Heaps of shiny gold coins spilled onto the wooden surface, winking up at me in the firelight. "That's five thousand. Motivation to hold up your promise of 'finest sellsword from Morrowind', eh?"

I let out a raspy laugh. "My dear, we have a deal. Teldryn Sero is at your service. Might I have your name, then?"

"Siiv." Her smile seemed wider than ever. "I have many names, but that will do for now."

"Well then, Siiv, where shall we venture first?" This seemed like the start of a fantastically profitable relationship. I could not wait.


	2. Chapter 1: A Quest Unfolds

**[A/N: Thank you for reading this! I appreciate your views and apologize for the wait after the prologue, the reason for that being, among other things, the sheer length I intend for each actual chapter of this story. I have a lot planned for this and wish to write a lot for it. Also, I must warn, there is some adult language and themes in this chapter. I knew I would have them, but I didn't think it is enough to warrant an 'M' rating. I may change that if I see fit, but just be wary of that going in. Thank you again, and enjoy!]**

* * *

"All right, I admit... This situation looks rather bad."

Siiv's laugh rang behind me. A mixture of humor and nervousness was in it, and I remained silent.

"Oh. Are you mad with me?" I rolled my eyes at her question, even though I knew she couldn't see my face.

"_No_, of _cours_e not. I'm positively _delighted_ to be here. You know, we should do this _every_ time we traverse caves!"

"Hey, hey, hey. I do not appreciate the attitude, ya frosty sabrecat. We can... we can get out of this, I promise you. Easy as drinking milk!"

Pah. Nords and their utterances. I tried craning my neck to get a look at our surroundings, before sighing in resignation. I couldn't make heads or tails of the cave; it was too dark, too cramped, and hanging upside down does nothing for one's sense of location.

"Let me see if I can cut us down." The rope trap that bound us together began swaying slightly as Siiv struggled. "I just gotta reach my dagger..." I jolted abruptly as I felt a hand in the last place I thought a hand would be at that moment. "Whoops. Heh. Didn't mean to grab ya there, Telly."

Through gritted teeth, I responded, "Well, you don't seem overly _bothered_ by it, seeing as you have not removed your hand. And don't call me _Telly_."

"Oh, wouldja lookit that, I _haven't_ removed my hand! Go figure." I tensed as she gave a playful squeeze, before mercifully letting go.

"Do you Nords have no concept of personal space?" I hissed in annoyance and discomfort. The ropes seemed tighter than ever.

"That is stereotyping. I will not have racist employees, Telly."

I groaned in defeat. This position in which we fell into stemmed from our first day of partnership...

* * *

I reached over the table, shaking hands with the Nordic woman. She laughed boisterously and began herding the coins back into the pouch, humming a song I recognized as a favorite in Skyrim which all the bards loved to play: "The Dragonborn Comes".

I tugged at my faded red scarf idly. "I remember, when I was in Windhelm, a bard in Candlehearth Hall used to sing that. A Dunmer woman. Pretty, but dull. Shame, she had such a lovely voice."

Siiv smiled benignly. "It is a favorite of mine. At the Bard College, we sang it all the time. I have not returned there in quite awhile. Perhaps I should visit sometime soon. You can come with me, aye? I will introduce you to the others, they will like you, I'm sure!"

"...Right, we shall see about that." Surely this woman was crazy. Acting so warm to someone she had just met? In Tamriel, that's a fool's course of life, which inevitably is not a long life. "Now, I assume you have some plan of action in your mind, if you go to such lengths to hire the best mercenary around?"

"Ah, yes! Right to the point, are you? I like that. Contrasts nicely with my rambling. Or so I've been told. You know, back at Jorrvaskr, every time I began to tell a long-winded story, Farkas would push me on the feasting table, lift the hilt of his sword, and ram-!" I cut her recounting off abruptly.

"All right, all right, that's enough. I don't think I want to know where this is going." I shuddered at the thought. "You Nords and your... customs. I take it this Farkas is your lover?"

My, what I thought to be, obvious question was answered with an outburst of unbridled laughter. Failing to find the apparent hilarity in the situation, I frowned and crossed my arms defensively. After she overcame her fit, she managed to choke out, "M-me and Farkas? Ha! That's a good one. No, no, that is ridiculous! Do you even listen to yourself? Heh, priceless..." She wiped away a tear of mirth, still chortling.

"Do you listen to _yourself_? I bet you'd learn a thing or two if you did," I scoffed in return.

"Now, now, no need to get so salty, my dear Teldryn. Interesting name, by the way. Teldryn, Teldryn, Teldryn. I like it. Wouldja mind if I called you Telly?" She smiled hopefully. Did she ever _not_ smile?

"Yes, I think I rather would mind," I grumbled. "And, now that I think of it, you said you were at Jorrvaskr? Home of the Companions?" The guild was famous, even in Morrowind. "I thought you said you were part of a Bard College. And you're the savior that rescued Solstheim from Miraak's clutches." This was getting to be too much. Where was the bullshit in her story?

"I am. That's not all. I'm a very busy woman! But I'm taking a break from that stuff right now. Time for adventuring, not anything earth-shattering or important." For a fleeting second, I thought I saw her smile drop. For that brief moment, I saw exhaustion beyond any face I had ever glimpsed. Not even old Crescius came close.

That was it. That was the woman I had heard of from so many whispers, who had put so much at risk for so many people. I've been alive for many years. Not necessarily old by elf standards, but still far older than the human before me. And yet, there was age in her eyes not unlike that the elder elves carry from centuries of life. She barely looked to be thirty by the agings of mankind otherwise. And then, in an instant, this sad creature vanished, replaced once more by a bright smile and benign eyes.

I may not learn them today, but I swore to find her secrets. This was shaping up to be a patron unlike any other.

"So, what were we discussing before my stories got the better of me...?" She turned her blank gaze to the ceiling, as if mentally backtracking our conversation. "Ah, yes! Our first destination!" She leaned forward with a secretive grin. "Have you heard of Glin's Den?"

* * *

Siiv twirled forward, looking around at the world with interest. The gray ashlands lightened into soft fields of snow, and the barren plains of southern Solstheim turned into a wild tundra. The transition of my Morrowind to her Skyrim, as it were. The island's tall mountain range stretched before us.

"Careful," I warned her, torn between amusement and concern regarding her childish behavior. "Rieklings, trolls, and spriggans call northern Solstheim their home. And your frolicking makes you an easy target. Just be glad the draugr don't leave their crypts."

She froze. I slowed my pace, watching her warily. Perhaps she had some crippling fear of draugr? "There are draugr here?"

Her voice was so quiet, I could barely make out the words. I raised an eyebrow at the sudden mood shift. "Yes. Only in the northern crypts. Easily avoidable."

"I see." She continued onward, this time at a much more measured walk, rather than a prancing gait. I followed, glancing over her shoulder as she pulled out a map from some satchel at her side. The map was almost falling apart and looked rather waterlogged. I had to wonder if Siiv dropped it in the sea at some point. Despite its ragged appearance, I could quite clearly see it detailed Solstheim. Past the northern tip, behind a sheath of glaciers, there was a large isle hidden off shore. A red 'X' was scrawled over it. I wouldn't put it past Siiv to have marked it there herself. "It took me a long while to find this. The island is, by all means, invisible to anyone on Solstheim. It's an old treasure hunter's legend, really. Those glaciers hide the fact that it's there, and make travel by boat nigh impossible. Supposedly, however, great riches lie in wait within the den, untouched for countless centuries. The whole tale reeks of danger and wealth! I cannot wait to get there!"

"You might _have_ to wait," I intercepted dryly. "You said boat travel is nearly impossible, and I am not setting one foot in the sea. I'm hoping you have a plan of actually getting to the island."

"As a matter of fact, I _do_ have a plan." She turned to me with a wide grin. "We fly, of course."

I stared at her for a long moment. "We fly," I repeated, skepticism dripping from the words.

"Yes, yes, that's what I said. Hm... This should do!" Before us stretched a wide expanse of snow-covered field. Not a soul in sight, not even a riekling, thank the Princes. "He does not much like people he has not deemed Qahnaarin, but I'm sure he won't mind you."

"What in Oblivion are you talking-" My question was cut off by a bellowing shout, shockingly originating from Siiv.

"**DUR**...**NEHVIIR**!"

I stumbled back in surprise as violet energy echoed forth from her lips, swirling brightly against the white ground. A deafening pulse chimed through the quiet air, and in a flash of dark purple, a great behemoth began to materialize before us. A dragon!

The giant gray-scaled creature reared its head slowly, nostrils flaring as it inhaled deeply. It craned its neck and stretched its impressive wings, a low growl emitting from its maw as it did so. And then, the dragon spoke.

"Ah, Qahnaarin. It has been too long since you've last summoned me. I have longed to fly the skies of my home for quite a time." The deep resonance of its voice was rather intimidating, but it curiously displayed no animosity. Instead, it seemed quite civil. It fixed its eyes upon me in an appraising manner. "The Daughter of Coldharbour no longer follows you, replaced instead with this stranger. Is he worthy?"

Siiv turned her eyes to me, and a moment of hesitation stilled the air. I stared back, waiting for her answer.

"...That is yet to be determined, but I doubt he will disappoint."

Huh. Intriguing. Does this Durnehviir fall for that?

A guttural grunt was the reply, a gout of steam issuing from the dragon's nostrils and fogging the lens of my helm. "I trust your judgment, Qahnaarin. Now, tell me..." The dragon swung its head from side to side, glancing about the empty plain. "...Why you have summoned me here. As much as I enjoy your company, I cannot possibly imagine you brought me here for conversation."

"You are correct." Siiv stood straight and smiled warmly. "We need a lift. Would you be so gracious as to grant it for us?"

Durnehviir sniffed, glaring at me with disdain. "I will grant this service, yes. Know that I am not happy about it."

"I understand. So, shall we begin?"

I hung back, watching incredulously as she strode forward. The dragon bowed its head at her approach, allowing her to sit astride its neck. "Come on, Telly. Riches and mysteries await us." She beckoned for me to sit upon the dragon as well.

"Don't call me Telly," was my only complaint as I followed, shaking my head in disbelief. I paused before the dragon, unsure of how to proceed. She reached out a hand with a wide smile, which I begrudgingly took and jumped on with her help.

"Be careful not to fall off," she warned cheerfully, grasping Durnehviir's horns. She shot me a cheeky grin and added, "You can hold onto me if you think you might slip."

"I hardly think that will be necessa-" With an impatient snort and a mighty roar, Durnehviir spread his wings wide and kicked off the snowy ground, bolting up into the skies. Without a second thought, I automatically grasped Siiv's waist, thrown completely off-guard. Her mirthful laugh was carried off by the gales as she loudly called to the dragon, "Glin's Den, to the north!"

"On my wings, Qahnaarin, it shall be done." Durnehviir circled the field once, then took off towards the mountaintops, his piercing cries reverberating through every crevasse down below. Looking back on the experience, I fear I may have dug too deep into Siiv's sides, but at that moment, her personal comfort was the least of my worries. I managed to maintain most of my dignity, thankfully, and no shrieks escaped me. After the initial shock and frantic praying to every Prince that came to mind, I calmed myself enough to look around. Wind rushed past us, and I almost bemoaned the fact that my obscured face could not feel it pass. All the same, a smile came to my face as I stared upward at the night sky, northern lights of green, blue, and yellow illuminating the starscape. I let a laugh out, a sense of enjoyment and wonder filling me for the first time in years. And here I thought I had seen everything.

Siiv glanced back at me, beaming, and nudged Durnehviir slightly. At her touch, the dragon flourished its right wing downward, tucking into a tight roll in midair. I clutched tighter, but thrill raced through my veins instead of terror. My odd Nordic patron let out an ecstatic whoop, clearly having too much fun. Durnehviir dipped low to the ground, skillfully weaving through snow-capped evergreens. I swore I could see a few elk scattering in fear as we raced by, and as we circled the tallest mountain, I spied a frost troll gaping in confusion at us from the mouth of its cave. Durnehviir swooped along the curve of the mountain, rapidly approaching the seashore. Mist sprayed as Durnehviir's tail cut through the icy sea, his claws grazing the surface. Before us was the great wall of ice, and it seemed we were on a collision course with it. I steeled myself for impact, not once cringing or looking away.

And, just like that, it was over.

Durnehviir came to a halt, suspended in the air. Just moments before, we had turned sharply upward before crashing and were now hovering over an island. It was not small, but not so large that it was visible behind the glaciers. Wings beating gently, the dragon lowered itself onto the isle, landing with a soft _thunk_. Siiv slipped off its neck, and I followed. Dismounting wasn't as difficult as I expected; I at least landed on my feet.

She watched me expectantly, waiting for me to speak. "Well, that was... not bad. Not bad at all," I finally mustered.

She nodded fervently in agreement. "When I first flew, my partner told me my envy for the dov would only increase," she said, nostalgia present on her face. "It was not Durnehviir with whom I first flew. I flew with Odahviing, after Jarl Vignar and I trapped him in the palace at Whiterun, Dragonsreach. Ah, good times."

Durnehviir snorted in amusement. "It was Odahviing you trapped? Hah! That one has pride to match Alduin's hunger." They shared a hearty laugh, seeming to enjoy the little joke.

"So I guess my suspicions were correct," I muttered, more to myself than anyone else. Even still, my 'companions' noticed, turning their heads to me with similar looks of curiosity. Amazing how a woman and a dragon could even pull off the same expression. They seemed to wait for me to elaborate, so I heeded. "You're Dragonborn, aren't you, Siiv? When Glover said you were famous in Skyrim, I had no idea..."

Her smile was replaced by a tiny frown, the corners of her lips barely tweaked downward. She almost looked nervous. "Yes, that is me. If you have indeed heard of me, I'm sure you are aware of the dangers that stalk me wherever I go. I... apologize for dragging you into this without fully explaining my situation. Surely, if you proceed by my side, you too will face great peril. I understand if you wish to leave me at this point. I'm sure Durnehviir will consent to talking you back to Raven-" I halted her awkward speech with a wave of the hand.

"Please, remember who you are speaking with. The greatest sellsword Morrowind has to offer. I've spent several centuries of my life fighting losing battles, and I haven't fallen yet. Besides, I've been looking for a challenge, and it seems I'll find one with you." By the time I had stopped talking, Siiv's face seemed alight with awe and joy. By Oblivion, it even looked like she had tears burgeoning in her eyes!

"Th-thank you! So very, very much!" she cried, clasping her hands tightly. "You have no idea how great it is to hear that!"

Well, that was new. She opened her arms as if for a hug, but I stepped back hastily. "Let's, ah, save the hugs for another time, Siiv."

"All right." She conceded, albeit with clear disappointment. "You're right, we have caverns to explore." For the first time since landing, we turned our attentions to the island we stood upon. In the center, the icy surface rose high, revealing a cave that was undoubtedly Glin's Den. Siiv turned back to Durnehviir and bowed politely. "Thank you for your help, Durnehviir. I shall call you again to this realm once we have finished here."

The dragon returned the bow, lowering its head in respect. "It was my pleasure, Qahnaarin. I look forward to the next release from the Soul Cairn." With a final push, Durnehviir pushed itself off the ground, shooting up to the skies with a roar as familiar purple energies began to surround its hide. It spun once in the air, eyes focusing on us one last time before vanishing altogether. Siiv watched him go, waving the entire time. She sighed contently, still staring up at the sky.

"He's a big sweetheart, really," she said affectionately, tearing her gaze away from the stars and heading towards the den's entrance.

"I'll take your word for it," I mumbled, following her in.

The first thing that struck me about this cave was the sweeping cold that overtook me the moment I stepped inside. Northern Solstheim generally had a chill about it, but the den surpassed every freezing temperature I had been exposed to on the island. Even Siiv, with her Nordic skin and predisposition for the cold, shivered as we entered. The second thing I noticed was the overwhelming dimness of the cavern. I could just barely see Siiv in front of me.

"Now, I'm not sure what foes we'll face in here, so let's stick to the shadows, shall we?" she whispered, crouching low to the ground. As she did so, her armor seemed to melt into darkness, absorbing her slowly until all I could see was a pair of pale eyes. Even the odd glowing circlet that rested upon her brow vanished from sight.

"The Ebony Mail of Boethiah?" I stared, awestruck. "What are _you_ doing with _that_?"

"It's a... long story," she mumbled with a shrug. "But, condensed, I happened upon her shrine, sacrificed a manipulative miner, spoke to Boethiah, killed all of her worshipers, stealthily shot a bunch of bandits in a mine, and assassinated her Champion-gone-rogue."

I shook my head, exasperated. I should have expected that one. "Right, not questioning it. Shall we continue?"

"We shall."

* * *

As we crept further into the cave, I became more in-tune with the subtleties of the area. Inconspicuous drips, the texture of the ground, slight changes in lighting. Nothing life-threatening so far.

"Halt." Siiv threw out an arm to stop me, her hushed tone sounding loud and echoing in the quiet of the tunnels. "You see that?"

It became apparent to me that the darkness was starting to become dimly illuminated. I could see that the cave walls, which had been part of the glacier when we entered, were solid rock now. I was unsure of when the caves transitioned from ice to stone, but there was no doubt that it had happened. I also noticed that the tunnel appeared to be slowly tapering. The walls were growing closer together, until the end of the corridor-like passage formed a door-shaped archway. Flanking its sides were the sources of the light: glowing mushrooms.

I grunted in affirmation. "We don't see those much on Solstheim. If I remember correctly, they tend to grow in caves populated by-"

"_Corpse-fuckers._"

What.

"I'm sorry, I must have netch jelly in my ears. _What_ did you just say?"

"Corpse-fuckers! You know, those damn Falmer! The creepy little things, always skulking about in swarms. They'll overrun you, kill you, and _fuck your corpse_! And don't even get me _started_ on those chaurus!"

As if I didn't already think she was stark-raving mad. "Right, no, I don't think that's what the Falmer do, but I don't want to find out. Let's just proceed with caution."

"Hmph. That's probably wise. Don't want to get surrounded by corpse-fuckers..." She signaled for us to move forward, past the glowing mushrooms.

Once we made it through the archway, we found ourselves on a ledge overlooking a large, open chamber. I could see more glowing mushrooms protruding from rocky ledges scattered throughout the cave, providing minimal light. No sign of movement thus far, though I could barely make out what looked to be a crude hut crafted from chitin. Not a very promising sign.

"All right, let's move." Siiv made to drop into the chamber, glancing back at me to whisper, "Take care not to triii_iiIIIIP_!"

As soon as her warning left her lips, I saw her foot catch on some previously-obscured obstacle near the edge. With an ear-shattering shriek, she tumbled over the ledge, landing heavily on the ground below, where she lay, stilled.

"Oh, Sheogorath's beard..." I groaned, rushing to the edge while carefully avoiding the object she tripped over. Passing it, I realized exactly what it was: a body. Human. However, I felt little care for such a discovery at that moment, as I could hear bestial hissing and guttural growling originating from further in the cave. I had no doubt that Siiv's screams had alerted the Falmer, and I had no intention of leaving my patron's possibly unconscious body unguarded in the presence of the creatures she seemingly hated above all else. Carefully scanning the rocky drop-off for a good place to jump down from, I managed to get to the ground unscathed. I darted over to Siiv's side, extremely wary of the unfriendly sounds closing in on us. "Siiv. _Siiv_." I nudged her shoulder urgently, my voice hushed. No response came from her. "Of all the inconvenient horseshit..."

Seeing as I was running out of options, I decided some desperate measures needed to be taken. Lifting the fallen Nord's form as well as I could, I carried her over to the lone chitin hut. I figured it was empty, seeing as nothing had ventured out of it at Siiv's screeches, and it turned out I was thankfully correct.

The hut was bare, cramped, and dark; in our current scenario, perfect.

I held my breath anxiously as I pulled Siiv's body into the shadows, where Boethiah's blessings readily consumed her. Once she was hidden, I did my best to stay unseen. I could hear the Falmer draw into the chamber, snarling viciously in their unintelligible tongue. I could not quite make out how many there were, but I did not want to try my chances against a possible legion of the little fetchers.

After what seemed like the lifetime of an Elder, the Falmer began to disperse, back into the tunnels from whence they came. I let out a sigh of relief, then turned my attention to Siiv. Prodding her gently, I murmured, "Siiv, wake up." Still no response. Looking closer, I was at least able to see she was breathing. Deep breaths, not shallow, so that told me she wasn't extremely injured. I redoubled my efforts, slapping her lightly in the face. "Come on, wake up."

"Mm, yeah... Keep it up, Bryn..." was the mumbled response I got, the Nord before me shifting in her sleep. "Show me you're not too busy to talk... show me you're not too busy to scream..."

I reeled back in disgust, rolling my eyes. Figures, doesn't it? "Now, listen here, you Nordic freak," I grumbled through clenched teeth, utterly seething. "If you don't wake up from your little wet dream _this instant_, I shall be left with no choice. For the last time, _wake up_."

She hummed in her slumber and rolled over on her side, away from me.

"Oh, so that's how it's going to be? Childish little outlander..." I drew my hand and felt my magic flow through my arm, down to my fingertips. Not only was I Morrowind's finest sellsword, I was quite the _spell_sword as well. Arcane lightning crackled in my hand as I reached over Siiv. With one disgruntled shake of my head, I pressed it to her stomach.

"Agh!" She shot up with wide eyes, her light hair sticking up at all angles. I knew her shocked cry would inevitably draw the Falmer back to us, but with her awake we at least stood a chance. "Teldryn, what in Talos' name-!"

"Quiet, you fool!" I hissed back at her, thrusting my hand over her ridiculously loud mouth. "How have you survived on your own for this long?!"

She struggled for a moment, still clearly confused. I removed my hand, glaring at her in annoyance while she calmed herself. "Ach... My previous companions never electrified me... not literally, anyway..." She shook her whole body, apparently ridding herself of any numbness. "I was just taking a nap, you didn't have to be so rude. I was having such a good dream, too... Wait." Realization registered in her eyes as she tilted her head in bewilderment. "Why was I taking a nap again?"

"You tripped over a body, you idiot," I grunted in frustration, glancing out of the hut to see if the Falmer were upon us yet. "Human, looked like a Breton to me. Not sure what it was doing up on the ledge though. I doubt the Falmer could climb that cliff, so odds are they didn't get to him. But enough about that." I turned to her sternly. "For the second time today, in remarkably quick succession, you have alerted the Falmer with one of your reckless shrieks. I could scold you all day, but I'm certain they shall arrive any moment now. Be at the ready, for this hive may hold an entire _army_ of the blasted things."

"Hah! You should have seen when my friend Serana and I went through an entire vale full of them, and came upon this crazy vampire Snow Elf, and-"

"Another time, Siiv. Another time!"

"Oh! Right!"

I drew my Elven blade, which I had commissioned from Glover Mallory awhile back, and summoned a Flame atronach with a flourish. It twirled into existence, staring at me with a blank face. I braced myself, not for the Falmer, but instead for...

"What in fucking Oblivion do you think I am, a _torch_? Dammit Sero, if you summon me in another one of these dank-ass caves, I will personally scorch you a new one!"

Ah. I hadn't heard that in awhile. "Never mind that now, Drem, we're in a bit of a predicament. Lend a hand, won't you?"

More grumbling ensued from the atronach, while Siiv looked on in awe. "An atronach that talks? I've never heard of such a thing!"

The atronach turned slowly to face her, a scandalized look on its face. "The fuck you just call me? How. _Dare_. You! If Sero wasn't holding me back, I'd burn every hair off that worthless little head of yours!"

I sighed; this happened every time. I muttered an aside to Siiv: "Don't mind him; I'll explain later."

"Him?" Oh no. She just opened up _this_ can of worms? She pointed to Drem's chest in confusion. "But... aren't those breasts?"

I thought Drem might explode on the spot. "I'll have you know, you pathetic mortal, that I-!"

A hideous snarl interrupted Drem's rage. The Falmer were upon us, and there was no hiding now. "Siiv! Time to see just how much you live up to the fanfare!"

"Hah! Back at you, Telly!"

Drem snorted. "_Telly_? This bitch just called you _Telly_?"

"Bah, go douse your heads, both of you!" I couldn't help but laugh. This was already proving fun. I pushed myself off the ground and stepped outside the hut, where Drem shot me a look of utter disdain. Siiv, not bothering to fix her messy hair, practically pranced out, crouching in the shadows with a bow drawn.

At the opposite end of the chamber was a tunnel similar to the one we came from. I couldn't see much of where it went, but I could see sickly pale creatures slinking out from it, their forms twisted and hunched. A thin layer of skin stretched over their blind eyes, but their keen hearing located us even when their lack of sight couldn't. Now that they knew where we were, they charged, dozens of them flooding from the tunnel.

Arrows whizzed by me, notching into some Falmers' skulls as I dashed forward with my sword at the ready. I raised a hand to blast a path through the Falmer with my lightning, feeling the rush of battle flow through me once again. Knocking aside a few foes with the hilt of my sword, I raised the blade to slice into a bleeding one before me. Just as I was about to bring it down on its neck, a blazing fireball crashed into it, throwing it heavily into the wall. I shot a glare at Drem, who lazily called, "Sorry, I didn't think you had that one." He casually tossed a few more fireballs into the wave of Falmer, lighting up the dark cave brilliantly. By Meridia's wings, there were so many of them.

Oddly shaped swords clanked against my armor; I could already feel the bruises that would be surfacing the next day. Backing out of the fray slightly, I sharply commanded, "Drem! Suicide!"

"Are you joking, Sero? You know how much I hate this!"

"Yes, yes, remember who's in charge. I _said_, **SUICIDE**."

"Ugh! Fine! See if I care what you want next time you're in a dire situation!" With that, Drem flew into the horde of Falmer, firing off as many fireballs as he could muster. A barrage of weapons overtook him in a matter of seconds, his rather feminine form falling limp. It seemed his fire was extinguished, but a low rumbling sounded as the charred husk glowed brightly before an explosive heatwave enveloped the crowd, leaving a heap of bodies.

A few Falmer remained, stumbling from the blast, and they turned to run back into the tunnel.

"Oh no, you don't!" cried Siiv, expertly loosing arrows in each of their backs. "Hah! Try to fuck corpses now! You can't, because you're dead!"

"That's enough, Siiv," I chuckled, shaking my head. "I think they get it." I bent my head, coughing. Now that the adrenaline rush was gone, I felt quite tired. Well, at the very least, we were both alive. "You're very skilled with the bow," I commented lightly, overcoming my coughing fit.

She positively beamed at my words. "Thank you kindly! I love archery very much. In fact, I love it so much, my other skills kinda suffer," she laughed weakly, rubbing the back of her head. "Vilkas always tells me, 'try to use an axe for once, it'll do you good,' but I just can't get the hang of that stuff. Short swords are all right, magic is kinda shaky. I'm pretty good at alteration stuff though!"

I decided to ignore the rest of her rambling as I examined the mountain of corpses in front of the tunnel. I gingerly stepped over them, poking my head into the tunnel. Pretty dark, but we could manage. "You said there's supposed to be great treasure here?"

"Yup, I did indeed."

Hm. That body Siiv had tripped over might have been a treasure hunter, then?

"Right, no time to waste, I suppose. Are you ready to move on, Siiv?" I turned to look at her, raising an eyebrow when I did. She was kneeling beside the heap, poking at one of the bodies covered in ash.

"You said you were going to explain the deal with Drem. I'd like to hear it."

I crossed my arms, trying to think of how to exactly explain Drem. "Well... for starters, he isn't actually an atronach. He's a dremora, one of the higher-ranking daedra. He was part of Mehrunes Dagon's elite guard, the Valkynaz, but he decided to defect to serve Sanguine instead. The Lord of Change was not pleased at this betrayal, and decided to punish him by changing him into an atronach, sealing away his power, and trapped him in a shard of Oblivion. The reason why Drem resents me so much is _this_." I reached into the folds of my scarf and pulled out a pendant with a small black stone set into it. "I found the shard a couple years back, in a crater in Morrowind. Had Glover forge it into a necklace, and I quickly discovered it influenced my magic curiously. I've been able to summon atronachs for a while, but after putting on the pendant, the atronach I conjured was different. Powerful. Loud. Obnoxious. He told me his story, which lasted about five hours. He claims if I destroy the shard, he will be freed. I've tried, but the shard proves resilient. All the same, he hates that I can command him with it. I gave him the name Drem as a joke, but he seems surprisingly all right with it." Once again I felt winded, and I resumed coughing for a moment.

"I see. He seems like quite the companion!" She grinned, standing and joining me before the tunnel.

"That's... one way to describe him." To be honest, he was a complete pain in the ass, on a good day.

"I quite like him, actually! He's funny!"

"I'm sure he'd be positively delighted to hear that," I muttered, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

"Well, all that aside, shall we continue?" She smiled contently, seemingly not possessing a care in all of Tamriel.

"That we shall," I conceded with a nod, gesturing for her to lead. As befits her role as the patron.

"Fantastic!" She began a bold stride into the dark tunnel. "I can practically _smell_ the treasure!"

"Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but this time to watch your step-" I was almost expecting the inevitable shriek that followed my statement. The sound of ropes snapping echoed all around us. I had no time to react as a thick cord lashed into my stomach, slamming me into Siiv. They began weaving intricately, in and out, binding us together as we were hoisted off the ground and flipped upside down.

"Oof... Let's not do that again, please," she mumbled weakly.

* * *

"That is stereotyping. I will not have racist employees, Telly."

My defeated groan rang throughout the tunnel. "Just get your damn dagger, Siiv."

"I'm...trying..." She floundered for another moment, before falling limp. "Nope... no good."

"Ugh... Give me a minute." I wriggled my hand out from the tight ropes as best as I could and did my best to channel my magic. It proved exceedingly difficult, but I managed to perform the conjuration. A small burst of dark energy, and Drem blinked into existence once again, lighting up the tunnel and illuminating Siiv and I. He stared blankly for a full minute at us, before nearly collapsing into peals of laughter.

"By Sanguine's bloody Rose! What do we have here? Damn, damn, damn. I wasn't gone for _that_ long, you little weasels." He snorted loudly, his energy flaring slightly. "And didn't we already discuss the fact that I'm not a torch? Pfft, I'll let it slip, seeing as I got to catch this shit."

"You just do not shut up, do you? That's the real reason Dagon banished you, isn't it?" I scowled at him, blood beginning to rush to my head. "Get us down from here. Burn the ropes, or something."

Drem crossed his arms petulantly. "Not in a thousand eras. I told you, if you made me suicide, I wouldn't care if you were in a dire situation."

"You seem to forget who's in charge yet again. Get us down, _now_."

"_Ugh_." His groan conveyed his displeasure quite clearly, but I honestly couldn't care less if he was annoyed. He moved to set fire to the ropes, lighting them with a very careless fireball.

The fire burned brightly for just a second, then died down.

"Enchanted, I presume. Explains the elaborate trap. There's no way any Falmer could have created such a thing." I scrutinized the situation, becoming more and more destitute with the whole ordeal. "But then, who-?" My pondering was interrupted, for the umpteenth time that day, by a loud, official sounding announcement coming from the end of the tunnel.

"The Dunmer and the Nord have received a formal summoning from the Baroness of Glin. Meet with her ladyship, or suffer the consequences."


End file.
